The Invitation
It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.
It doesn’t interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon...
I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened by life’s betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.
I want to know if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us to
be careful
to be realistic
to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
“Yes.”
It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.
It doesn’t interest me who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.
It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep
in the empty moments.
~ Oriah
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read this. made me feel all tingly inside. posting it to pass on the feeling.
It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.
It doesn’t interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon...
I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened by life’s betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.
I want to know if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us to
be careful
to be realistic
to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
“Yes.”
It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.
It doesn’t interest me who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.
It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep
in the empty moments.
~ Oriah
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
read this. made me feel all tingly inside. posting it to pass on the feeling.
good stuff :) but i cant help feeling amused how a guy would react and more importantly write it. lets take for example, if a guy had to provide a writeup fulfilling/responding to this list on some marriagemama site, what would he write?
sou.. want to have a go?
any other smart funny writers?
Loved it Sou!
:)
I thought of posting some wise-ass comment, but decided not to break the sombre mood. :-)
Not qualified enough to speak about poetry, but that was moving stuff.
Can't resist, however, a PJ:
("I want to know if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
because... um.... you sat
on a tube of Quick-Fix.")
@ jedi - hey great idea! i'm working on the next post which shall be a set of Qs that you ppl will have to answer.
@ jennifer - i really wish i'd written it :|
@ dev - yeah yeah go right ahead and post all the PJs.. no post is too serious. wait for the next post.. you crack PJs per question :)
@sou: very funny. and we fill the questionaire and then get beaten up by our girlfriends (again)!
as it is all these silly ads with abhishek cooking and cleaning (and he's not even married-unless aish beat him up and made him do..), and teleinsurancewhoresNpimps promising women all sorts of things. shudder shudder.
raw emotions and needs very well portrayed.. too good.
now just for fun, i took the first lines of most of the stanzas to make a small monologue.. :-)
It doesn't interest me what you do for a living.
It doesn't interest me how old you are.
It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon...
It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true
It doesn't interest me to know where you live
It doesn't interest me who you know
It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied.
I want to know if you can be alone
with yourself
my ears hurt reading this one. very intense :-) looks like a yes,no or duh !? questionnaire.
the first guy at the receiving end of these questions must have rediscovered the joys of ice cold beer.
@jedi - hmm... so that's a No for most of the Qs. ok. *scribble scribble* send jedi get well card..
@ kid - okok i give up.. u ____ (insert mild expletive here) men can react to strong emotion only one way and that's hiding behind humor.
but it was a funny thing to read :D
@ oz - eh? ur ears hurt? u read with your ears.. what a strange condition is it the dope? :p
yeah... it'll be a yes/no Qnaire damn. i hate it when you're right. but you read with your ears, so.. so..it all just nullifies somehow (muaahhahaaa)
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Too much of life has happened to me to not consider this but wishful thinking. I doubt any exist who can truly sustain the emotions those words speak, for it is usually but a fleeting fancy; such emotions. We all have them but they never come to stay and at best leave behind but empty words such as this. We are two people, the closet idealist whom we keep alive to penance our guilt and mask our true selves. A body that merely keeps a mind to call its self civilized. I may be wrong or just particularly bitter either way it is a thought.
mcx
WOW!
(I'm trying to get back into the blogosphere. But a little bought of the depression seems to keep me away. And a lot of work, too). But I miss you!
tq - oy!why didjya remove your comment?
mcx - hey nice to see you here again.. well, see the way i see it this poem/post is not so much about emotion as much as self awareness and a more direct/simple way of living where you are not afraid to put down your personality, hopes and fears in black and white.
I disagree this is not as much about "self awareness or a more direct/simple way of living". The very first lines and subsequent lines state a desire of what you think you want (you as in the author). It portrays an idealistic view of ones self. I am arguing that such a desire of simple things, a denouncement of the more material needs and wants is merely a poets fancy and rather not reflections of true human nature(no that i know what true human nature is). I still believe we are two people the closet idealist and his/her more significant half the, the flesh and blood, selfish men/women. Our sole purpose in life is to try and see how much we can archive, how much we can consume, how much we better ourselves over others before time our eternal nemesis extinguishes us . How then can we truly desire the least or the most humble of things. It is usually those of us who believe ourselves incapable of winning in this rat race who stand back and speak of happiness that resides in the simple things, the inconsequential and the romantic things. : ) Ps: i don't necessarily believe in all of the things i said above (nor do i disbelieve it) just feeling a bit mischievous.